“You take the correct view, no doubt,” was her reply to this.  Her voice was not so firm as in the beginning.  As the probabilities began to show themselves again in her favor, she lost a degree of self-possession.

“Let Mr. Wallingford complete his work,” said I, “and find, if possible, the evidence you require, in case you prove to be the legal heir, as I trust you will.  And until his return, the existence of this important document had better remain a secret.”

“Shall I not submit it to Judge Bigelow?”

I reflected for some moments, and then replied—­

“Yes.  He is your legal adviser, and one in whom the highest confidence may be reposed.  The will should be at once placed in his hands for examination.”

“And go upon record?”

“Better leave all to his superior legal judgment.  But,” as the thought occurred to me, “who are named as the executors of this will?”

“I did not examine as to that, being too much interested in the provisions of the writing,” she replied.

“May I see the document?”

“Blanche, dear, you will find it in the right-hand drawer of the secretary, in our room;” and Mrs. Montgomery handed a key to her daughter, who left the apartment in which we were sitting.  She came back in a few minutes, and handed me a paper, which, on examination, I found to be written throughout, and evidently by the hand of Captain Allen.  It was dated San Juan de Porto Rico, January 10, 1820, and was witnessed by two signatures—­the names Spanish.  The executors were Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd.  There was an important sentence at the conclusion of the will.  It was in these words:—­“In case my wife, in dying, should leave no relatives, then every thing shall revert to my own right heirs, should any be living.”

All this gave the affair, in my mind, a more serious aspect.  Before mentioning the executors’ names, I said—­

“Do you know where Theresa Garcia resided, before her marriage with Captain Allen?”

“In Porto Rico, as I have learned from old ‘Aunty,’ and also from letters found in searching for the will.”

“Which I find was executed at San Juan De Porto Rico, the principal town on the island.  Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd are the executors.”

I saw her start slightly, and grow a little pale as I said this.

“Judge Bigelow, and Squire Floyd!  That is extraordinary!” She was more disturbed than I had yet seen her in reference to this matter.

“It is remarkable, certainly, that Judge Bigelow, your legal adviser, should be one of the executors of a will, which determines your brother’s estate out of the line of consanguinity.”

“He must, of course, cease to represent my interest in the case,” remarked the lady.

“He cannot represent two diverse interests,” said I.

“No; that is clear.”  She said this in a troubled way; and was, evidently, falling into a perplexed state of mind.  “Well, Doctor, what is to be done?” She spoke with recovered self-possession, after a short period of silence, looking at me with her old calmness of expression.